


let's hear it for america's suiteheart

by gossamernotes



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Bucky Barnes Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Is THE Troll, What A Punk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossamernotes/pseuds/gossamernotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is as likely to save the world as he is to troll his teammates. </p>
<p>They just don't realize that yet. </p>
<p>[The story wherein Steve pranks his teammates five times, unexpected feelings happen, and we all wait for the inevitable to occur.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. draw me like one of your american boys

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tell Her You Love Her](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318486) by [biblionerd07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/pseuds/biblionerd07). 
  * Inspired by [something good waitin' down this road](https://archiveofourown.org/works/600373) by [defcontwo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/defcontwo/pseuds/defcontwo). 



> So, I have always wanted to a 5+1 story, so here I go. I hope it is kind of funny? That's the goal. I guess we'll see if I am funny as I like to think I am. 
> 
> If you have any trollific (haha, get it?) ideas for Steve, let me know! I love to hear from you all! It keeps me going, but like, actually. 
> 
> Oh, this story happened because biblionerd07 wrote this story "Tell Her You Love Her," and I read it, and then immediately decided it was time to write my own 5+1. And defcontwo has gotten me on a "Kate Bishop is Queen" kick, so there is that too.

"Can you hear anything?"

Tony humphs, pressing his ear closely against the door of Steve's apartment. He shakes his head. "Shut it, Hawkguy," Tony whispers, "I need absolute silence."

"Excuse me, sir," JARVIS calls from above, startling Tony away with a muffled squawk while Clint damn near jumps back into the air vent above. "The entire tower was sound-proofed, remember? Ms. Potts had that done after your affair with the arc compressor in the lab and proceeded to — how did she put it? — blow everything up."

Grimacing, Tony rolls his eyes, waving his hands at Steve's apartment. "JARVIS, the man lives in my home, my inner sanctum sanctorum or whatever the hell Doctor Strange calls our digs. Mi casa es no su casa, JARVIS. I demand to know what's going on in there," he whines. 

Nestled now in the air vent, Clint pops his head down — nearly losing his sunglasses as he goes — and nods. "Yeah, JARVIS, we got a right to be worried about what or who the Captain is plundering, am I right," he jokes, biting his lip as if to keep from laughing too loudly. Tony points towards him. 

"See," he tells his AI, "Clint's on my side."

JARVIS almost sounds tired when he responds. "Sir, I'm not authorized to —"

"Yes, you are. You totally are now, buddy," Tony corrects him. "I created you, and I now give you permission to tell me if Steve Rogers is getting laid."

"Actually, according to the lease agreement —"

"Lease agreement," Tony asks, eyebrows raising so quickly they nearly disappear into his hairline. "What is this?"

"Uh, were we supposed to sign one of those because I totally didn't know abou—"

A noise from beyond the door silences them, and when Tony looks down, he sees the handle to Steve's door jiggle. He freezes and looks around, nearly tripping on the hem of his greased-splattered sweatpants as he looks for an escape route. Everything is too far away — _shit, shit, shit_ — so Tony holds up his arms like a toddler wanting to be carried and screws his eyes shut. 

"Legolas," he hisses, "Return a favor! I need a lift!"

Just as Steve's door starts to open, Clint hangs from the air vent, grabbing Tony's outstretched hands before wrangling him into the now-cramped shaft. He's wheezing and clutching his side, almost certain he bruised a rib extracting his nosy teammate from the hotspot below, when he sees Tony pressing his face against the metal grating that's covering the vent. Clint clears his throat.

"What'd you see," he whispers.

Tony says nothing.

Clint tries again. "Tony?"

"You got to see for yourself," Tony answers, barely audible to Clint given his hearing aids, but the echo of the shaft carries the noise until he can make sense of it — enough of it to finally crawl on his stomach towards the vent's opening to see what's below. He almost chokes when he does, but Tony jerks a hand out to cover Clint's mouth as they watch Steve stand underneath them, running a hand through his mussed hair in just some threadbare shorts and undershirt. 

But it's the man next to him — one that Clint recognizes from some billboard downtown — that makes his cheeks color because he's standing there all disheveled with buttons misaligned down his shirt. His slacks are wrinkled, as if they'd been thrown to the floor in a hasty retreat, and there is a dark smudge shadowing his jawline that Tony _knows_ is a hickey. 

The man smiles, walking away with easy steps, and Steve steps back into the apartment where he'll wait until Bucky returns home from his job tonight with Natasha. Still squeezed into the vent, Tony and Clint stare at one another, blinking dully as they come to terms. 

After a moment, Tony coughs. "Did that just…?"

Clint tilts his head. "Yeah, I think so."

They sit there for a minute longer before Clint rolls onto his back — elbowing Tony in the ribs, thank you very much — and slips his phone from his pocket. He's squinting at its screen when Tony asks what he is doing. Finishing his message, Clint shrugs and puts his phone away.

"I texted Kate and Phil. They'll want to know."

________

"Are they still there?"

JARVIS sighs. "Yes, Captain Rogers, I'm afraid so."

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Steve eyes a banana — bought only because of Sam's insistence — and grabs an orange, peeling away its citrus skin with a laugh. 

"Do you think they'll figure it out," he asks, wiping his charcoal-coated hands against his ratty shorts that he only breaks out for projects. Across the room, Steve can see the mat canvas he'd been working on last night, now blocked-in with the angles and joints of his model's pose. It had been a long night, longer than Steve had planned for, but it worked out for the best. 

"Captain, you do realize what they must think," JARVIS prompts after a pause. "From the text Mr. Stark just sent to Dr. Banner, I assure you that they believe the worst."

"I'm sure they do," Steve breaths, popping a slice of orange into his mouth. "Let them think what they will."

JARVIS answers quickly. "Are you sure that is a good idea?"

Steve's smile turns wicked, imagining what Tony's shocked face must've looked like earlier. "Oh," he answers, "I'm sure."

________

The first time Tony sees one of Steve's _lovers_ in the common area, he chokes on water. He coughs violently, gasping for air as he wipes trails of water away from his chin, and looks up to see an admittedly attractive man standing across the bar from him.

"You okay," he asks. Tony waves him away, staring at his glass of water and wishing it would become something a whole hell of a lot stronger. 

The man stops, reaching for a banana — which makes Tony's eyes fly wide open — and smiles sheepishly. "I got to get to work. It was a long night, you know? I got a shoot to get to, and Mr. Rogers said I could grab something on my way out."

There is a pause before Tony answers. "You call him Mr. Rogers?"

The man nods. "Um, yeah."

Tony blushes. "What the _hell_ kind of kink is that? No — No, don't tell me. I don't need to know. JARVIS can see you out," he answers, watching the man walk away — skinny jeans clinging sinfully to his slender thighs — and Tony turns back to the bar. 

He's eyeing his bottle of Russian Standard when Thor's booming voice calls to him from the den. 

"Stark, was that another one of Steve's erotic conquests," he asks, smiling so widely that Tony nearly misses how Jane and Darcy are flanking the god. To his side, Darcy whistles lowly, grinning through her red-painted lips in a way that would have interested Tony in his younger days. 

Now, it just makes him miss Pepper all the more when she's away on business. 

Darcy walks up to the bar, ignoring his strangled cough when she takes the vodka out of his reach, and pours herself a shot. "With an ass like that, Steve could bounce a quarter off it. Get it? Because that's an army thing and he's…aw, hell, I'll shut up now," she says, taking the shot in a single go as Tony takes his bottle back. 

He stands there — shirt damp and hands filled with alcohol — and Tony wonders how his life came to this.

________

"I think you're overreacting."

Tony purses his lips. "Bruce, you haven't seen what I've seen. There's no way I'm wrong!"

Looking over his wire-rimmed glasses, Bruce fixes Tony with a look. "I'm just saying, I don't think Steve is that kind of guy. The love-them-then-leave-them sort," he says.

"I know," Tony says. "I was that guy once, so I don't understand what's —"

"Isn't it considered treason to talk that way about a national icon, boys?"

" _Jesus Christ_ ," Tony cries when Natasha sneaks behind him. Bruce laughs, going back to his book as he leans back in his chair, while Tony desperately tries to restart his heart. "You need a bell," he tells her. "I'm going to get you one."

She shrugs. "You'd have to get it on me first, Stark."

"Nah," he says, "I'd let Barton do it because you wouldn't mind him touching yo— ow, ow, ow!"

Pulling her fist back, Natasha smiles. "Aw, that had to hurt."

"I had a great time last night."

All three of them jerk at the new voice. Natasha tenses as a hand drifts towards her waist, ready to grab any of the knives she has hidden there, and Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. Tony, however, calls to JARVIS. 

"Put it on the screen," he says, rushing over to the closest TV. He only feels a little creepy — just a little — when he sees the video feed appear on screen to find Steve outside his apartment with another man. This one has dark, coifed hair, cut just the same as Bucky's was before the war, and there is a scar crooked at the corner of his lips. He's smiling, looking at Steve with half-lidded eyes. 

Steve scratches at the back of his neck. "Yeah, Jeff, it was great. It was a little weird at first, but it got better once we got into it."

From his seat, Bruce sputters. 

Jeff leans forward, tugging an arm over Steve's broad shoulders, and reaches up to press a short kiss to Steve's cheek. "No, it was all you, Cap. Let's do this again sometime," he says.

Tony hears a crash behind him at the bar followed by Clint's colorfully swearing. He sees Natasha roll her eyes, muttering under her breath about being surrounded by idiots, before she disappears to either help or maim her partner. 

When Steve comes into the kitchen later — still dressed in his wrinkled hoodie and sweats — Tony can't look him in the eye. Natasha is watching him carefully, tracking his movements as he pours himself a glass of orange juice. He's taking his first sip when she rests her hip against the fridge, crossing her arms under her bust with a raised brow.

"You look tired, Steve," she says. 

He blinks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I think I'm actually going to head back to bed for a bit," he says, looking over the room before his stare finds Tony. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Steve walks away, rolling his stiff shoulders — because that's what happens after your hunched over an easel for seven hours — and thinks his chest is going to explode as he tries to hold in his laughter after seeing Tony's horrified face. When he reaches the elevator, he waits until the doors close to let go. Steve has one hand propping himself up against the elevator wall as the other rest over his breast, laughing so hard that the veins on his neck are bulging beneath his skin. He only stops when the elevator arrives at his floor and a familiar voice reaches his ears.

"Man, what the hell happened?"

Steve looks up to see Sam and Bucky waiting at the door — dressed in their training uniforms with duffles slugged over their shoulders — and bites his lip before exploding into another fit of laughter.

________

Clint doesn't think this is going to work.

Actually, he pretty goddamn positive it isn't, but Kate Bishop is swearing up-and-down that it will. And Stark…well, he's desperate enough for proof that he'd do anything at this point. 

"…extraction at the signal, Hawkeye. Romanoff is out because she's a killjoy, but we got two archers and a genius, playboy something-or-other to make this plan work," Kate rallies in the elevator before brushing off some dog hair from her cardigan. "If this goes south, it'll be up to lazy over here to work his magic," she says with a thumb pointing towards him. 

He'd argue — really — but Clint can't argue with anything she just said, so he keeps quiet. Tony says nothing as he stares through the elevator with a thousand-yard gaze that makes Clint wonder what horrors Tony thinks Steve is getting up to. 

It's then he remembers that he does not, in fact, want to know. 

They get to the apartment, dropping in from Clint's trusty air vent, and Kate is at the door with some piece of StarkTech that has both their ears pressed to wood. From his comms, he can hear whatever the device is picking up from inside the apartment. 

"…yeah, uh-huh, move up a little bit just like that…oh, you look _perfect_ ," Steve grunts, and suddenly, Clint is feeling too hot to be laid up in an A/C shaft. 

"Are you sure this feels good?"

Steve's muffled answer comes a second later. "I love it. Don't you? That's all that matters," he says. "Just don't get too comfortable."

Below, he can see Kate's ears turn a fiery red as she shoots up. "Abort mission! Abandon ship," she hisses as she hurries to the air vent, reaching for extraction. Clint pulls her up and waits for Tony, but the man just stands there stunned. 

Clint thinks this might have finally broken him. 

And, from inside the room, Steve smirks as he sees the shadows behinds his front door disappear. The model perched on the stool across from him covers his mouth to keep from laughing — totally on-board from the get-go to troll the one and only Iron Man — and Steve pushes his bangs back as he stares down at the sketchpad laid on top of his knees. 

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a punk," the man asks as Steve works on shading his hands. Steve shakes his head, opening his mouth to answer when another voice stops him. 

"Oh, trust me," Bucky says as he walks from the shower to the bedroom in nothing more than a towel. "He knows."

________

"Steve, this is an intervention."

Blinking, Steve stares at his team as they stare back. There is even a shoddily crafted banner hanging above the bar — no doubt made by America and Darcy on a slow day — and Tony steps out from the group, neck flushed as he looks everywhere where Steve isn't.

Steve swallows. "About what?"

Tony sighs. "You know what," he says. "We're not stupid."

"I never said you were," Steve says, "but that still doesn't mean I know what's going on."

"It's about your…your affairs, _holy shit_ , Rogers. Keep it in your pants, or for the love of a god that's not Thor, do not let them mosey on into our sanctum sanctorum. I'm glad your some sort of paramour and making up for lost libido, but I cannot even begin to…to…"

Tony looks helplessly at the team who are all either nodding or looking vaguely constipated. None of them offer support. 

Steve takes pity and looks over the group to where he sees Bucky chatting with Pepper. "Hey," he calls, "I have the pieces done, Ms. Potts."

She starts at the noise, but her lips tip into a wide smile when she makes her way over. "I've told you to call me Pepper, Steve, but they're really done? And just in time for the showcase," she coos, coming to standing next to Tony with an arm looped through his. Tony looks between the two of them. 

"I finished the last one the other night," Steve answers. "I've lost some good sleep over them, but they look alright."

"He's lying," Bucky calls from across the room. "They look better than alright!"

Tony frowns, brow knitting, and some of the team begins snickering behind him. "I am missing something."

Pepper smacks his shoulder. "The gala, remember? We're hosting the Stark Art Gala next month, and Steve offered to do some original pieces for charitable auction. He's been doing life drawing all this month to get them in under the deadline. I told you all this, Tony. I even handed you the invitation."

Distantly, someone mutters, "He doesn't like being handed things," but Steve doesn't think the older man notices as he's already heading towards the bar with one hand running over his face. The rest of the team watches as Tony reaches behind the counter and pulls out the nearly full bottle of Russian Standard. Steve shakes his head, wondering if maybe he should apologize for "being a little shit" — as Sam called it — but Tony is wandering off towards his lab before he can say or do anything. 

The room goes quiet before breaking into laughter as Clint doubles over, one hand braced against his knee as his shoulders shake. Even Thor is chuckling when Kate walks over, thumping Steve on the back.

"I got to admit, Steve," she tells him, "you had us all going there for awhile, but I knew you couldn't be that depraved."

Steve crosses his arms, looking over his team to see Bucky laughing loudly, and his heart thuds tightly within his chest. His blood turns to liquor as it fills with something like champagne bubbles — and for a second — Steve remembers what being drunk feels like. He traces the thick line of Bucky's neck as it curves into his collarbone, skin disappearing from Steve's thirsty eyes at the edge of the shirt Bucky had borrowed from Steve months ago. 

Steve just swallows. "Yeah," he tells her. "You got me."


	2. unstoppable force meets unmovable object

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Steve is truly worthy, Mjölnir is a tease, feels happen unexpectedly, and there's a reference to BOTFA because _dragons_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, this is not-so-shamelessly inspired because BOTFA happened and Smaug and also Steve is totally worthy (just as Biblo and Co. are) so there.
> 
> Let me know if you have an ideas for how Tony should ~~ruin~~ troll Tony some more. Oh, and I guess everyone else too.

Steve looks at his hand.

A finger twitches imperceptibly, edging towards the mantle above one of Tony's many fireplaces. There are electric logs crackling behind its wrought gate — something which Steve found horribly strange when he moved into the tower — but it is what's laid above the mantle that stops him.

And, no, it isn't the stockings that are all hung there. Steve swears as much, even if he is a little befuddled by the star-spangled stocking perched beneath his festively decorated name-tag. 

Rather, it is Mjölnir that catches his eye as Steve stands in front of the fireplace. Hanging from Thor's stocking mantle, instead of the monstrous electric blue number Darcy bought the god, the mighty hammer hangs upon a hook as if it's a fish on a wire. 

Steve's finger twitches again. He thought his curiosity had been sated before the Ultron incident. 

_You are simply not worthy._

Moving closer to the mantle, he looks over his shoulder before letting himself prod the hammer. 

It doesn't budge. 

Steve stares at it, frowning with his brow, before taking a step back. He turns towards the hallway, and, as he heads back to his apartment, Steve catches the distant, glowing shapes of Rhodey and Sam test-checking their gear. They soar high into the morning sky — like Icarus of old — before diving down into impossible rolls and twists that make Steve's skin tingle. 

He doesn't spare another look behind his shoulder.

Steve figured it wouldn't work. He's not sure why he feels disappointed.

________

**Interlude: Four Months**

________

Steve steps out of the elevator with lips pressed into a thin line and curses loudly when he stubs his toe on Mjölnir.

He backs up to the wall instinctively, swearing colorfully as he wriggles his toes and thankfully finds that none of them are broken. He's been at the hospital for hours, and he's only come back to grab a few things for Bucky. 

At the thought, Steve's voice grows rougher as he grumbles underneath his breath. He's staring at Thor's hammer with narrowed eyes when something breaks within him. It's been a long day — an even longer few months — and Steve can't breathe under the weight of it all. 

_bucky is recovering, pull it together, you got there in time to save him, you stopped him again, he didn't leave you, he didn't leave you, he didn't leave you_

Jerking from the wall, Steve's chest shudders with emotion, and his eyes feel hot when he bends down. His hand is at Mjölnir's handle before he realizes what he's doing, and with what strength he has left, Steve tries to move the damned weapon out the middle of the fucking hallway before Steve catches up to his age and actually has a stress-induced coronary.

There is no thought behind it. There's just action — driven only by the fear and worry and guilt and inescapable self-doubt that clings to Steve like a second skin. 

It's why he doesn't realize he's brought the hammer with him as he arcs his arm behind his shoulder. The leather-bound grip feels warm to the touch, almost as if he'd been holding it for centuries, and the weight is so similar to that of his shield that Steve moves on memory. Adjusting his grip, Steve throws the hammer with all his might and dumbly watches its path as it rockets through the air, breaking through his living room window as it soars out into the night sky. 

Steve blinks with reddened cheeks, exhausted in a way he'd never known was possible. 

Outside, the blaring horn of a car alarm shrieks. 

He blinks again, feeling his jaw loosen in shock. "What the fu—"

It's then that Steve feels a blow to the gut which knocks him to the ground, wheezing like his lungs believed it was 1924 again. His face crumples in pain, and Steve can only look through his fallen bangs to see that the hammer has returned to him like a misfit duckling looking for love. Steve feels his arms shake when he reaches for the handle again, and when he tugs on it, Mjölnir comes to him willingly.

Steve sighs before falling into an almost hysterical laughter as he sits on the floor, clutching Thor's hammer to his chest while unbidden tears roll down his cheeks. 

Worthy indeed.

________

"Someone taught me something once, Cap. _With great power comes great responsibility,_ he'd say. You know, you actually kind of remind me of him a little."

Steve stares at Peter — taking in his gawky limbs and the camera hung around his neck — before nodding. "That's good advice."

Peter snorts, casually flicking his wrist to web a mango towards him, and shifts the satchel slung across his waist. He takes a bite before tapping the side of his head. "Oh, yeah. Man, he was so smart. He had the whole "wise-sensei" thing about him, but let me tell you, he could scarier than Fury when called for. Think Mr. Miyagi but, like, if he was having a bad day."

There is a moment where Steve stops and pulls out his notebook, writing down "Mr. Miyagi" inside with his traditionally messy scrawl. Peter is gone when he's done — and Steve sees Thor napping on the couch. Mjölnir is sat on the table, precariously dangling over the edge yet unable to move for obvious reasons.

Steve bites his lip.

He really doesn't want to abuse this power. Still, he expects to one day reach for the weapon and find himself falling face-first to the floor because it no longer deems him worthy to wield it. It's happened to others to a degree. It's not unheard of for others to hold Mjölnir; Natasha has done it, and shortly after his return, Bucky was able to nudge the hammer on his better days. But none has ever had the longevity Steve has had, and while he's not known for his childish nature (unlike a certain suited superhero on their team), Steve isn't immune to the charm of a novel prank.

Across the room, Thor's thunderous snores stutter as he curls into a ball, tugging the hand-crafted quilt made by Dr. Foster closer to his chin. 

Mjölnir gleans under the light flooding through the window, and Steve stands, unable to resist its call.

________

He doesn't move it far. Steve is too smart for that. In fact, he barely moves it an inch. But, judging by Thor's perplexed look when he wakes, Steve knows he's done enough.

Thor is circling the table where Mjölnir rests as Steve works behind the kitchen counter, paring vegetables for the curry he promised to test out for Sam. He works with his head down until Thor makes an irritated huff, lifting his hammer into the air and brings it close to his face as he inspects its polished metal. 

Squinting, Thor calls out to Steve. "Mjölnir was moved during my slumber, Captain. I am sure of it."

Steve fights a smile. "Are you sure," he asks. "You're the only one able to move it, so maybe you're imagining it?"

"No," Thor insists, staring intently at Mjölnir. "I can feel something amiss. I fear Mjölnir herself takes pleasure from my confusion with this," he continues, and Steve stops chopping. Looking up from the counter, he shrugs at Thor. 

"Thor," he lies, "I'm sure it's nothing."

Swinging the hammer in his grip, Thor pauses before laughing jovially. He lets the hammer fall to the floor as he walks towards Steve and grips his shoulder tightly when he passes. "You are surely right, Captain. I will leave you to your cookery then as I go off to fetch Lady Jane."

When Thor leaves, Steve waits a full minute before checking the hallways. He steps out from the counter and goes to Mjölnir, picking it up easily with a grin. 

"JARVIS," Steve calls, "where's Tony?"

________

Steve barely fits in the air duct, but _damn_. This is worth it. With his wide shoulders crammed into the duct, he watches below as chaos ensues. Because what's happening before his very eyes is Tony Stark freaking the ever-loving hell out as he tries to leave his lab and finds himself unable to do so.

He looks a little lower to find the source of Tony's plight, snickering as he does.

Tony should know better than to let himself become so engrossed in his work that he doesn't notice when people sneak up on his lab and leave mythologically revered weapons at their doorstep.

Then again, Steve should know better than to leave such weapons unattended when no one else can move them.

It seems they both have a lot to learn.

"FOR THE LOVE OF ODIN, JUST BREAK THE DOOR DOWN!"

Bruce takes off his glasses, wiping them with the bottom of his shirt. "Tony, this is the "hulk-proof" lab. Literally, the only thing we have strong enough to break the door down is me."

Tony kicks the reinforced door, forgetting that he's only wearing flip-flops, and yells. "Then, strut for me, Bruce! I have a date with Pepper in," Tony says as he checks his watch, "negative four minutes!"

Next to Bruce, Natasha rolls her eyes before fixing them back to Mjölnir. "Stark, we're sorry about your terrible time management skills and even worse luck, but we can't do anything until Thor comes back from _his_ date with Dr. Foster."

Seething, Tony lets his head drop against the door with a thud. "H-How did it even get there? JARVIS?"

"Sir, I apologize, but it seems the video data from this site has been corrupted," JARVIS intones.

Tony continues to bang his head against the door. "Make note: Thor is never — under any non-life-or-actual-death circumstances — allowed on this floor. Ever. And, if he has that hammer, just enact protocol delta-gamma-charlie."

From his perch in the air duct, Steve's lips are stinging from where he's biting them to keep from laughing. He's got a feeling that Clint is up here somewhere, and Steve isn't about to draw any undue attention to himself. 

"Sir," JARVIS cuts in after a second, "Ms. Potts is on the phone. She sounds…terribly upset. Should I patch her through to the lab?"

Tony pales. "Sure," he answers dryly. "why not?"

________

Mjölnir begins to travel on its own. Or, at least, that's what the team thinks is happening.

One afternoon, Clint wakes up from one of his many naps and goes to stretch only to find himself pinned to the recliner. He looks down to find the hammer resting on his lap — and when he's hollering minutes later about needing to piss — it's Thor who comes in to relieve the archer with furrowed brows. 

When Phil comes to the tower, towing along his new team, they find themselves tripping over Mjölnir as it moves about the living quarters. By Steve's count, he has tripped Gabe's grandson about five times already.

His favorite incident, so far, has been during training when Bucky was sparring with Kate and Natasha. It's two-on-one, and Bucky's breathing shallowly as he faces off the other two. His shirt came off nearly an hour ago while at the punching bags, and Steve almost hates to break the party up as he hides in the tented rafters above. Mjölnir is dangling from his finger as he watches Bucky size Natasha who is favoring her left leg after their last series of hand-to-hand strikes. Kate, on the other hand, is picking at her nails to Bucky's chagrin. 

"Bishop," he calls, "you're going to get yourself killed one day with how little you pay attention."

She sighs. "Why pay attention when I know what's going to happen when it matters? All you two do is fight-fight-fight and then I do this," Kate says as she mimes grabbing an arrow from her quiver, "and go pew-pew-pew, and then all the bad guys are dead-dead-dead." 

Sliding into stance, Natasha laughs. "She's not wrong, Barnes."

Bucky deflates. "Don't encourage her."

Kate bristles, finally bending at her knees in a way that Bucky approves of. "Look," she says, "nothing is going to happen here that I don't already see coming, so why don't we just —"

It's then that Steve lets the hammer fall from the rafters, and when it lands within the gaping space between both parties, Steve has to scramble for cover when Natasha immediately starts looking for where the hammer fell. However, it's hard for him to move with his knuckles shoved into his mouth to keep from screaming in laughter at the surprised squawk that Bucky let out when Mjölnir dropped just feet from his toes.

Still in the corner, Kate's jaw drops. "Okay, so maybe I didn't see that coming."

________

Steve is the last one standing and only barely so. He's propped against the charred remains of a car, looking through watering eyes at the destruction laid upon the city block while his team lies around him. They're struggling to their feet — those who are still able to do so — and Steve can see the shadowed outline of the mecha-dragon flying above the ashy street. A piercing cry echoes through the sky as pumps its wings, nearly pushing Steve to the ground with the following gust of wind.

From across the street, Steve notices Natasha huddling over Clint and sees the way her hands hover above his gored shoulder. 

He sees the blood pooling beneath the archer's still body, and all Steve can see is red. 

"It's turning around!"

At Tony's voice, he looks towards the sky to find the dragon diving for the team with its glowing eyes centered on Steve's bullseye shield. The target is bright against the potted street, and Steve lets it drop to the ground.

Bucky screams. "Steve, what are you doing?"

He doesn't answer; He doesn't have time to. Instead, Steve rolls to the ground as the dragon comes at them and grabs Mjölnir with his good hand. There is resistance when he pulls — enough so that Steve's stomach bottoms as he sees the dragon's mechanized nose spit steam in the distance — but it comes to him when his heart leaps in his chest.

_never again, never again, i promise i'll never do it again, just let me save them, just this once, let me save them, let me save them_

Mjölnir flies as he swings it round in his grip, furthering its momentum until it's nothing more than a blur at his side. When he lets it go, Steve watches as the hammer rips into the dragon — hitting it right in its weakened breast — and sees its torn skeleton fall to the ground in a heap of wires and corrugated metal. He drops to one knee, blinking away a trail of blood that threatens to drip into his eye, when a large hand comes into his line of sight. He looks up to see Thor standing in front of him. 

"You wielded Mjölnir," he states, and Steve grabs Thor's hand as he pulls himself to his feet. 

Steve flushes. "Yeah," he answers. "I did."

From the back, Steve can vaguely hear Tony ranting ( _"That son of a bitch! Captain Small Ass is why I had to sleep on the couch for a week! A week! My back still—"_ ), but there is something in Thor's stare keeping his attention. There is a breeze when Mjölnir returns to Thor. Sirens wail throughout the city — so different from the sound Steve heard when he first moved the hammer — and Thor nods his head.

He clasps Steve's shoulder, squeezing once before letting go. "It seems I was mistaken, Captain."

Swaying on his feet, Steve blinks. "About what?"

Thor smiles brightly, highlighting the darkening bruises at his eyes. "You," he answers. "It seems that you truly are worthy, Captain."

Steve wants to make some noise of objection — to say something to play it off — but then there is a weight next to him that's helping him stand. When he hears the familiar whirring of Bucky's arm, Steve closes his eyes in relief. He shifts Steve's weight so it is resting on him when he looks to Thor. 

"Of course he is," Bucky says. "When was he ever not?"

________

Steve doesn't touch Mjölnir for a long time after that.

Unless, you know, it's an actual emergency.

~~(And, sometimes, even when it's not)~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and fangirl with me on [tumblr](http://brooklynboystosupersoldiers.tumblr.com) because I like to reblog and write and yeah.


	3. one-hit wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Natasha is a bad influence, Bucky sings in the shower, Tony loves Toto, and Steve becomes a broadway wanna-be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of ways I could apologize for not updating lately. My life is crazy. A lot of good (and bad) things have happened to me lately. I am also just a terrible person when it comes to keeping track of things. 
> 
> I'd really love to hear from you all. I know there are a lot of you subscribed and hearing back from you all means the world to me. I hope you all like this! At the very least, I hope you all enjoy the music! I recommend pulling up the songs!

They each have their own thing.

Natasha dances. Tony tinkers. Bruce listens to americana. Thor grabs a drink with Darcy. Clint will head down to the range with either Kate or Coulson, rubbing his neck like he expects there to be a quiver behind his shoulder. 

The missions don't even have to go wrong. Thankfully, they usually don't. But they do their own things, you know — what they do to focus and unwind. 

Steve never really noticed it at first. He was the first one on the quinjet and the last one off for missions. By the time he hit the tarmac, taking in the stale air of Manhattan from the tower, his team had already disassembled into its parts. His shield a weight on his back, Steve would walk to his room — walking tenderly if something hadn't healed right — and would fill out a mission report. 

He doesn't remember what would happen after. It's a blur now. 

What he does now after a mission is impossible to forget, even if he'd like. 

It's all because Bucky likes to sing in the shower. 

Steve, for how long he's known Bucky, had never thought this would be an issue between the two of them. Apparently, he was wrong. 

It begins after a mission outside Wakanda. Technically, the trip never happened: They were never there, none of them ever met T'Challa outside the walls of his village, and Tony Stark sure as hell didn't ask the crown prince his thoughts on the royal baby. No, Steve refuses to admit that anything like that happened, declassified or not. 

Bucky goes on the mission with them then, and it's his first outing with the team. He's not officially on the roster yet — because SHIELD doesn't have the time and Tony is a paranoid bastard at the best of times — so he signs on as a consultant. Coulson approves of the situation, says that it'll be good for Bucky to test the diplomatic waters before heading into the field again. 

Squaring his jaw, Steve leaves his comments to himself. Bucky never coddled him, so he will return the favor for now. After all, Steve is supposed to be the one who plays well with others. 

Steve fills out the preliminary report before the team lands. He wants Coulson to know how the whole team did — how Natasha performed a ballet routine for the local tribe, how Bruce tentatively cleaned his glasses before heading into another home to provide medical care, and especially how Bucky let five kids hang from his prosthetic arm for the sake of "super-qualified-science" on Tony's behest. 

_(he's especially proud about the bucky bit)_

He knows there will be more paperwork tomorrow — it seems that all there ever is in his downtime — but he heads back to his apartment because Bucky had promised falafel on the ride back. Having never had it, Steve could feel his stomach pinch in hunger when Clint groaned after Bucky said the word, whining about how delicious it was. So, Steve picks up his pace when he reaches his floor until a noise catches his ear. 

He stops, nearing the wall of his kitchen to hear more clearly.

"….love…don't hurt me….no more!"

Steve's eyes widen as he takes a hurried step forward, careful to keep quiet. He's sure the voice belongs to Bucky, but it's hard to tell beyond the muffled call between the walls. Skating alongside the edges of the room, Steve strains his ears to hear better, dammit, as he peeks into Bucky's empty bedroom.

"What is love / Baby, don't hurt me / No more," Bucky's voice warbles from the bathroom. The sing-song voice is pitched high, so high that Steve winces when Bucky tries to hit an absurdly high note after a moment. A rough cough breaks from the shower before Bucky begins cursing softly, laughing so loud that Steve can hear it over the sound of the spraying water. 

With his head still poking into Bucky's room, Steve bites his lip. 

Bucky used to _always_ sing. It was kind of his thing, back when Prohibition ended and bars were desperate for good-looking crooners with a half-decent voice. Bucky always fancied himself one of these boys and would try singing each night before a stern looking employee from management would kindly kick him off stage. Steve, sat at the bar with a stiff drink, would laugh politely when Bucky would come back to his seat with an easy shrug. 

It is an universal truth that Bucky Barnes can't carry a note, but that never stopped him from trying. 

Listening to Bucky now — just as he's started humming a little tune once he turns the water off — makes Steve's chest flutter as he remembers a better time. 

"I say whip it / Whip it good!"

It's then that Steve promptly falls over in laughter.

________

The next morning, Bucky leaves his StarkPad on the kitchen counter when he goes to train with Kate and Natasha. Steve knows the password by heart _(it's his very own serial number)_ and never uses it without good cause. He doesn't feel super guilty when he opens the device, balancing a mango beneath his chin, and pulls up Spotify.

He looks at the playlist Bucky's subscribed to:

> **NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL 80's**  
>  **THE BEST OF THE BEACH BOYS**  
>  **CHER, PRINCE, QUEEN — THE GREATEST ONE-NAMED WONDERS**  
>  **SWING ME, SWEETHEART: LINDYHOP CLASSICS**

Steve looks at who made the playlists, fighting the urge to pinch his nose when he reads the familiar name.

Tony has some explaining to do.

________

It's different songs and artists after each mission.

"We can dance if we want to / We can leave our friends behind / 'Cause your friends don't dance / And if they don't dance / Then they're no friend of mine," Bucky crows from the bathroom. Steve barely manages to hear the call over the sound of Bucky's blowdryer, but he manages to catch it from his own room across the hall. 

Looking down at his phone, Steve pulls up his own music, staring at its lack-luster ranks before rolling to his feet. His watch reads that its half past noon, and he knows that Sam should be with Natasha in the gym. 

When he leaves, Bucky begins a new song.

"Now, stop / Hammer time!"

________

"You tried Marvin Gaye yet?"

Steve looks to Sam. "You know the answer to that already."

Shrugging, Sam looks to Natasha whose sitting against the wall on his haunches, sipping slowly from her water bottle. A curled ringlet of freshly dyed hair rests on her cheek, drenched in sweat. She wipes her chin. "At least it's not the 70s, Steve. You read about that in your crash course to this century, right?"

Steve grimaces. He remembers — Darcy had been liberal with her education on the subject. He had once thought the spandex for his old USO uniform had been bad; It had nothing on the white polyester glitter that Darcy had tried to get him into for the sake of something called "disco." He had stopped when he saw the deep-v of the jumpsuit's chest. In retaliation, she introduced him to The Bee Gees. 

He shudders. "Yeah, I'm good. Look at me, all up-to-date with kids and their music these days, golly jee," Steve quips. "Now, are you going to help me or not?" 

Natasha quirks an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

"Do I need to make it one?"

Sam grins, more cat-like than ever before, and it is then Steve realizes how bad of an influence Natasha is. 

"Oh," Sam says, "this is going to be good."

________

The thing about Steve's serum is that it didn't just enhance his body — it enhanced his mind as well. Photographic memory was nice and all, but Peggy had always remarked it was a shame that Steve didn't know how to play the piano.

She'd said the way he could remember a tune was uncanny. 

Steve falls asleep every night with his headphones in one ear, feeding fast beats and pulsing bass through his ears. The lyrics are there when he wakes up in the morning, and he's careful to keep himself quiet about it all.

Their next mission is in 48 hours. Steve can hold out until then.

________

Whenever Tony talks in his suit, the sound of his voice has always reminded Steve of when he was little and would play telephone with empty tin cans. Bucky would always bring them around — only after his Ma had handed them over — and they would tie them with string and toothy grins.

Sitting across from Bucky on the quinjet, Steve jolts at the voice when Tony's voice cuts to his friend. With his gauntlet, Tony is waving at Bucky's headphones. "This is unnerving. You listen to music? What do you listen to? Let me guess, Vanilla Ice?"

Steve bristles, but Bucky barks in laughter and somehow manages to avoid misapplying his grease paint. He looks up at Tony. "Nah," Bucky answers. "Have you ever heard of Toto?"

Rolling his eyes, Steve ignores how Tony opens his suit's faceplate to look Bucky in the eye with one-part horror and two-parts hope. Apparently, Toto is something of a sweet spot for the two. 

When they both breakout into "Africa," Steve regrets every life decision he's made that has ever lead him to this moment. 

_(but, then again, he really doesn't)_

_______

As Steve expected, his time comes once the mission is over. He still fills out his mission report as always — because he can't have anyone too suspicious about his movements — but the looks Sam gives him when he exits the quinjet is all-knowing.

Bucky's bedroom is cracked open as always, and from inside, Steve bites down on his hand to keep from laughing when he hears Bucky squawking from inside the bathroom. 

"I made it through the wilderness / Somehow I made it through / Didn't know how lost I was / Until I met you!"

Steve creeps closer to the bathroom, hands clenching at his side as the music ramps up to the chorus, and then he movies. 

Barreling into the bathroom, Steve immediately locks eyes with Bucky who's standing at the mirror, half of his face covered with aftershave. He's pulling the skin around his jaw taut to check for a close shave, but as soon as he see's Steve in the mirror behind him, Bucky let's out an indignant squeal and throws his razor clear across the room. Following along with the music, Steve puts on a show — he throws his hips out and places a delicate hand over his forehead as if he were a damsel in distress. 

"Like a virgin / When your heart beats / Next to mine / Going to give you all my love, boy / My fear is fading fast / Been saving it all for you / 'Cause only love can last," Steve sings, scooting closer to Bucky who looks torn between screaming and laughing. His lips wobble when Steve shimmies closers, still singing in a girly voice. 

"You're so fine and you're mine / Make me strong / Make me bold / Oh, your love thawed me out."

At the lyrics, Bucky's eyes bulge out before he's leaning over the sink in laughter. Steve collapses on Bucky's back, digging his forehead into the crook of his friend's shoulder, and smells the fresh smell of his skin. 

Between breaths, Bucky gasps for words. "You are — such a _little shit_ — oh my god, I t-thought you were listening in! I didn't know you liked Madonna! Do you? Oh my god!"

Steve rolls his eyes, thinking back to the playlists Sam and Natasha had forced upon him after Steve had decided he wanted to surprise Bucky with a song. "I didn't," he tells Bucky, "or, at least, I didn't until a week ago."

Bucky shakes his head like he already knows everything that happened. "Steve," he breathes, and suddenly, the room feels two sizes too small for Steve. Sam always jokes about how his shirts are too tight — that it's indecent for a man so buff to wear so little — and that's all he can think of as the room closes in on him like a second skin. Taking a shallow breath, Steve thinks it's all because of the way Bucky's looking at him with that lopsided smile. 

No, yup, that's definitely why. 

From a shelf across the room, Bucky's playlist shuffles to its next song. 

"Life is a mystery / Everyone must stand alone / I hear you call my name / And it feels like home."

Steve thinks he's never related to a song so much before in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and fangirl with me on [tumblr](http://brooklynboystosupersoldiers.tumblr.com) because I like to reblog and write and yeah.


	4. tweety bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Steve finds Twitter, Tony finds God, and Bucky finds revenge.

Steve looks to Skye.

Skye looks at Darcy.

And Darcy, well, she’s just doing her best to keep from laughing at all of this. Steve can see it in the way her lips quiver when she gestures towards him.

“Are you sure you want to go down this road, Cap? There are some things in this world that just can’t be undone."

“Or unseen,” Skye adds after a moment from behind her computer. From where her head is bent, Steve can’t quite see the self-satisfied smirk which he undoubtably knows is tugging at her lips. 

He stares at his phone — some high-tech upgrade of a Stark product that Tony had so humbly bestowed upon him weeks ago with an all-knowing grin and a _“don’t be embarrassed if you can’t get the thing to turn on this time, Steve.”_ Frowning, he ignores the reflection of himself staring back at him from the phone and looks back to Skye.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

Skye shrugs, and from across the couch, Darcy’s eyes turn manic.

“Steve,” Darcy pauses for a moment, “you’ve got to have a little faith. Look at us,” she says as she points between herself and Skye. “Don’t we look like a couple of responsible adults who know how to get shit done?”

Nodding, Steve lets his thumb hover above his phone. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Darcy humphs. “Man up, Cap, and do your duty as a public servant or whatever it is you are these days. The masses await!”

And so Steve presses okay.

________

**Steve Rogers** @stevengrogers  
so this is the twitter. what do i do now?

________

Later that night, Steve and his newly verified Twitter profile are on CNN.

They're also covered on something called Buzzfeed. Not to mention ABC News, Fox, The Colbert Report, and just above every other news outlet this side of the sun. 

Darcy also tells him that he’s trending worldwide — something that he’s disproportionately proud of — and that his tag on…Tumbler?…is heading into the “throws of orgasmic fangirl fantasies.”

Steve still isn’t quite sure what that means. 

Darcy tells him he might not want to.

________

**Tony Stark** @IAMIRONMAN  
@stevengrogers why god why

 **Steve Rogers** @stevengrogers  
@IAMIRONMAN hello stark! i am not god, just captain america. maybe ask thor? he could answer you.

 **Tony Stark** @IAMIRONMAN  
@stevengrogers you are doing this on purpose aren't you? 

**colemanhft** @secretagentman2749  
@IAMIRONMAN @stevengrogers he should ask @PepperPotts bc he must have called her god b4 lol 

**Steve Rogers** @stevengrogers @secretagentman2749 son, just don’t

________

Steve finds himself bored at the next team meeting. For Steve, today is not a great time for him to be focused.

There are no active leads on Hydra. Any despotic megalomaniac interested in conquering New York has apparently gone on vacation. Steve has been busy tweeting these days, you know, because he can. And Bucky went off the grid nearly a month ago with Romanoff to secure intel. 

Apparently, he’s the only one worried about this.

“That man is on Twitter! He thought we wouldn't notice, but alas. I did.”

Steve looks up, as does the rest of his team, when Tony finally arrives to their meeting unfashionably late. Agent Hill walks in after him, scowling so deeply that Steve is afraid that her lips might permanently stay that way. That would be a shame, he thinks. Maria has always had a terrifyingly charming smile. 

Raising his hands, Steve shows the room that they’re empty. “Sorry, Stark, but not today.”

Perching his sunglasses at the tip of his nose, Tony looks down the long table to where Steve sits at its head. He scoffs before saying, “You’re an addict, Cap, and a bad one at that. It’s tragic watching you fumble around the internet.”

Steve makes his eyes go wide, and he sets his hands up beneath his chin so he can rest his head on them. Tilting his head, he bats his eyelashes dumbly. “Golly gee, the internet? What’s that?”

From beside him, Bruce’s laugh sputters into a cough when he sees Tony sink into his seat, clearly unsure of what to say next.

For Steve, that’s victory enough.

________

**Barack Obama** @BarackObama  
Vote to increase rehabilitation funding for returning veterans: ofa.bo.a9f8

 **Steve Rogers** @stevengrogers  
@BarackObama thank you for being vocal about this. everyone, please support our troops. also hello Mr. President, have a nice day.

________

Within the span of an hour, tweeting at the President not only solidifies Steve’s power on the site but it also surges his follower count above Stark’s.

Even from his floor, Steve thinks he can hear the exact soul-crushing moment when his teammate discovers this development.

________

**Barack Obama** @BarackObama  
Thank you for the kind words, @stevengrogers. Have a nice day yourself and thank you for your service — bo

 **Tony Stark** @IAMIRONMAN  
@stevengrogers @BarackObama what does a superhero have to do over here to get a little love and attention? #allbymyself

 **Bruce Banner** @rbbculver  
@IAMIRONMAN big guy says to suck it up

________

“I just don’t get it.”

Steve puts his phone in his pocket, ignoring the impending text that Darcy is surely tapping away for him in Nevada, and looks down at Tony. The shorter man is halfway under Steve’s motorcycle, covered in grease marks after having stripped down to a threadbare undershirt — and for a moment — the tinny echo which shadows Tony’s reply takes Steve back to 1944 and Howard Stark’s bunkered lab. 

“…like their grandma, Cap, and you’ve got more followers than God!”

Shaking his head, Steve rests his hip against Tony’s tool bench. “God doesn’t have a twitter.”

Tony snort. “He does. He totally does. Google it,” Tony mutters, “if you know how to, that is.”

Steve nods solemnly. “Oh yes, the internet. It’s so helpful.”

From the floor, Tony curses before he rolls himself out from his work. When he does, he’s sucking on his pinky with a tacky grimace on his face. Tony stands up, reaching for the nearest rag — and when Steve realizes that Tony is about to grab a gas-soaked shirt to wrap his finger in — he intervenes and tosses one of Tony’s shirt at his head. There’s a muffled squawk when the shirt lands wrong and instead blankets Tony’s head, and Steve starts to back out of the room.

“I blame you for this,” Tony calls out as Steve books it out of the lab. “First, you steal my limelight. Then, you steal my followers. And now this? This is betrayal, Cap. Sedition. Treason. Mutiny, I tell you.”

Steve slows down outside the door to call back at Tony. “Stop being so dramatic, Stark!”

Tony growls unintelligibly. “Fuck you! You like comic sans!”

________

**Fox News** @FoxNews  
Almost 6 months after the #WSTrial, we want to ask: Did James Barnes get off too easy? fxn.ws/1o89sdj

 **Steve Rogers** @stevengrogers  
@FoxNews is this a real question or are you all just that stupid? #BuckyBarnesIsAHero

________

When Clint drops down from the gym’s ceiling later that week, Steve doesn’t flinch. However, if he hits the training dummy he’s been working on a little harder than normal, Steve won’t admit it. Clint, however, figures it out pretty quickly once he sees the dummy fly halfway across the gym.

“Nice hook,” Clint tells him as he stretches his fingers. Steve eyes the movement and notices the full quiver at his friend’s back, nodding. 

“Heading to the range?”

Clint sighs, blowing a full breath from his chest. “Yeah, Kate has got me going under pain of death apparently. I’m half tempted to skip to see if she’d follow through on the threat.”

Steve laughs. “Nah, I doubt it. She’s your protege; She’d eventually start to miss you.”

“That’s some optimistic thinking there,” Clint says, “because I know she only keeps me around for my dog.”

“And pizza,” Steve adds, smiling loosely. 

Clint opens his mouth to say something but stops, turning aside from Steve to look at the dummy sprawled haphazardly across the room. There’s a tick in his jaw which jumps every few seconds, and Steve watches the way Clint’s nose flares with each breath. It’s been hard for him, Steve knows, to go this past month without Bucky or Nat — with how they’ve all become friends, it’s not hard for Steve to imagine why.

After all, Steve feels the same way. 

“They should be back by midweek,” Clint finally says before he takes a step towards the door. 

Steve stares at his friend’s back until he’s almost out the door before speaking up. “We’ll all get dinner. Team bonding,” Steve says, “I’ll make it mandatory.”

Clint huffs. “Is Stark coming?”

“Well, you never know with that guy.”

There is a pause before Clint continues walking, fingering a salute at Steve as he goes. “Just make sure it isn't shwarma, and then I’m there.”

________

**Maggie Grace** @everydaybuglegirl  
#CaptainAmericaIsMyHero because he makes me believe that anything is possible — that I can believe in myself.

 **Steve Rogers** @stevengrogers  
@everydaybuglegirl thank you. i want you to know that even when it’s hard to believe in yourself, i still will. 

**Maggie Grace** @everydaybuglegirl  
@stevengrogers holy moly i am crying oh my god thank you so much i can’t

________

He’s on a run with Sam when the message comes through.

In one moment, Steve is keeping pace beside Sam as they round the congested corner near Lindsley. The next, he’s fishing his phone from his short pockets as Sam stretches behind him, breathing deeply under the bright sun. 

Steve unlocks his phone and reads:

_Unknown: get back to the tower. we need to talk :)_

Chuckling, Steve puts up his phone and looks into the distance where the Avenger’s Tower breaks into the skyline. He turns to Sam and claps a firm hand on his friend’s sweaty shoulder. 

“Do I need to hail you a cab, old man,” Steve says when Sam wheezes for a breath. Knocking his hand away, Sam glares pointedly at Steve. 

“Who’re you calling old? My age doesn't qualify me for a life alert yet.”

Shrugging, Steve nods towards the tower before he sets off, leaving Sam scrambling behind him to catch up when Steve yells back.

“It’s only a matter of time, Sam! Only a matter of time.”

________

**Smithsonian** @smithsonian  
We’re glad to announce that our #CaptainAmerica exhibition has been extended until August. Get info here: s.si.edu/id890d

 **Steve Rogers** @stevengrogers  
@smithsonian i have howling commando things i want to donate. how do i do that? also, could i get one of my sketchbooks back?

________

When Steve gets back to the tower, Sam knocks into his shoulder before swearing lowly under his breath. There’s no hope of him joining Steve as he goes to meet Natasha — not when Sam is covered in rivulets of sweat — so Steve heads into the common area alone. He’s just made it past the door when something snatches the towel draped behind his neck and pops it against his backside. Steve yelps, scurrying backwards to see Natasha and Bucky laughing their asses off as she twists the towel in her grip again.

“Welcome back,” she tells him, and Steve sighs. 

“Shouldn't I be telling you that,” he asks her, and Bucky shrugs for the both of them. There’s a certain look in Bucky’s eye which warns Steve of danger — of imminent and uncontrollable embarrassment — but, honestly, Steve is happy enough to ignore the twinge so long as Bucky is back home again. 

Something in Steve’s stare must convey that feeling to Natasha because she promptly strikes out at him again with his towel. The fabric makes a loud crack as it connects with Steve’s bicep, and even with his serum, Steve knows that a shiny welt is going to blister at his skin’s surface with the hit. 

“Stop being so sentimental,” she tells him.

Steve rolls his eyes so hard that he fears they will drop out of his skull. “Stop projecting your own feelings onto me and go see Clint already, jeez.”

At this, Bucky breaks into laughter as Natasha sizes up Steve — and for a moment — Steve isn’t sure whether she’s about to kill him or cuddle him. She stands there for a moment before she tosses the towel at Steve, which he catches, and makes her way to the elevator. As the doors slid open to the elevator, Natasha looks up to the ceiling. 

“I know you’re up there, Barton, so you have approximately fifteen seconds to get down to the gym before I break you.”

Steve smiles when he hears the muffled bang-thwop of Clint hitting his head inside the air conditioning shaft above. Turning to Bucky, Steve blinks suddenly when a bright light obscures his vision. Tiny orbs of light float in his vision as Steve clears his head to find Bucky standing in front of him with a phone like his own poised in Steve’s direction. 

“When'd you get that?”

Bucky puts his phone away. “Earlier today. Stark told me that you started using yours and got a Twitter. He thought I might like one.”

A pit of unease grows in the bottom of Steve’s stomach. He stares at Bucky and looks right through the stoic face his friend wears these days to see the childlike glee hidden below its surface. Steve reaches for his pocket where he knows his phone is tucked away. 

“Bucky, what have you done?”

There’s a pause between them as Bucky lets out a low whistle, heading towards their floor as he slides past Steve. “I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

________

**Bucky Barnes** @jbb32557  
Tony made me do this. It’s all his fault.

 **Bucky Barnes** @jbb32557  
What does the blue check by my name mean? Am i getting graded on this?

 **Bucky Barnes** @jbb32557  
Hey, @stevengrogers, i followed you. #followmeback punk

 **Bucky Barnes** @jbb32557  
If you don’t #followmeback, i will post stupid photos of you @stevengrogers

 **Bucky Barnes** @jbb32557  
Don’t say i didn’t warn you steve bit.ly/390k4

________

From his room, Steve groans and sets his phone down by his pillow. He carefully weighs the benefits of self-pity and of him wallowing in abject shame, but no — Steve gets up as always does. Carefully, he pads into the kitchen with his phone in hand to find Bucky asleep on the couch. He’s still dressed in his fatigues and boots, but the hard lines which nearly always frame Bucky’s face are smoothed now as he nods off. With his head hanging halfway off the couch’s arm, Steve bites back a laugh when Bucky snores softly and burrows his head into the cushy fabric.

He has to admit it: It’s pretty damn cute. 

But the sight doesn’t keep Steve from his mission, so he holds out his phone to snap his picture before he retreats back to his room. Typing clumsily on his phone, Steve shakes his head and laughs as he hits send. He closes his phone and leaves it in his room as he stands back up, heading back to where Bucky is knocked out in their living room.

It’s not like it’s the first time he’s carried Bucky to bed before. Steve knows it won’t be the last. 

He finds he’s okay with that.

________

**Steve Rogers** @stevengrogers  
@jbb32557 look how peaceful you are here jerk. you know, two can play this game bit.ly/90j4l5

 **Bucky Barnes** @jbb32557  
@stevengrogers i am going to kill you

 **Tony Stark** @IAMIRONMAN  
@jbb32557 @stevengrogers WILL YOU TWO STOP FLIRTING AND KISS ALREADY?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and fangirl with me on [tumblr](http://brooklynboystosupersoldiers.tumblr.com) because I like to reblog and write and yeah.


	5. the heart is twenty going on ninety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Steve goes on a date, Bucky has a romantically inclined crisis, and Darcy is really just in this for the breadsticks.

Bucky knocks on the door.

“Steve,” he calls, “get up already. We’re going to be late.”

Slouching against the wall, Bucky waits for Steve’s inevitable reply — one that’s drawn out in a tired voice. Steve, despite his ungodly penchant for waking up at the crack of dawn, has never been easy to wake. It’s always slow as Steve cracks his eyes open, breathing deeply to fill his chest when he sees the sun just outside his window. 

Except, this time, there is no reply.

With his metal arm, Bucky raps against the door with a little more force. “Punk, seriously, get your ass outta’ bed.”

Again, there’s nothing. 

Blowing out a hot breath, Bucky tests the doorknob to find it unlocked — which Bucky will chew him out about later because _safety is important, Steve_ — and he pokes his head through the door. There are words already on his lip which fall away as he sees Steve’s bed empty with its covers pulled taut against the mattress. Bucky steps into the room, and when he realizes that there’s no water running in Steve’s bathroom, he tilts his head up towards the ceiling.

A loose piece of hair falls into his face. Bucky sputters, reaching for the rubber band around his wrist, and calls out to JARVIS. “Do you know where Steve is? We’ve got training in ten.”

“I am sorry, Mr. Barnes, but I am unaware of Captain Roger’s current location.”

Bucky sighs. “Thanks, bud. I’ll try calling Sam, see if they went on a run or something.”

As he turns to leave the room, JARVIS’ call brings him to a stop. “Excuse me. Mr. Barnes, but I do not believe that Captain Rogers is with Mr. Wilson.”

“And why do you think that,” Bucky drawls out, cocking an eyebrow at the AI overhead. 

There is almost a waver of hesitation in JARVIS’ voice when he answers. “Given my understanding of Mr. Wilson's relationship with Captain Rogers, I do not think that they are currently together as Captain Rogers is on a date now.”

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath. “Wait, he’s what?”

“On a date, Mr. Barnes," JARVIS answers. 

And it is then that Bucky decides he needs to talk to Natasha.

________

“Is Steve dating anyone?”

Natasha looks up slowly from her book, staring at Bucky levelly. “Not that I know of, so no."

Bucky lets himself drop onto Natasha’s couch, ignoring the discomforting smell of Clint’s boots below him on the floor, and flings an arm over his face. “Well, according to JARVIS, he apparently is.”

There’s no response from Natasha for a moment. She sets her book down, carefully tagging the page she’s on, and strokes her chin so thoughtfully that Bucky knows she’s screwing with him. “I hope it’s Sharon,” she says lightly. “She’s got that whole 'apple pie, american dream' think going on, you know?”

Grabbing the pillow closest to him, Bucky tosses it at Natasha’s head. “No, I don’t know.”

Unfazed by the shoddy attempt on her life, Natasha gets up and stands over Bucky, quirking an eyebrow at him as he nestles himself deeper into her couch. 

“Something’s not matching up with this,” she tells him. “Let’s go find out what it is.”

Shaking his head, Bucky closes his eyes. “Give me a few more minutes to wallow, okay? I am compromised over here.”

Natasha swears lowly before bending over and grabbing Bucky’s ear and twisting hard. He hisses, instinctually turning to break her grip, but it only digs her fingers in harder to his skin. Bucky brings a hand to cover hers, glaring at her because he’s sure he's bleeding now. 

“What part of compromised do you not get,” he asks her. Natasha shrugs, pulling him up by his ear as he follows her movement, whining louder and louder with each passing second. When she finally lets go, Bucky’s ear is bright red — so much so that it nearly matches the latest vibrant shade of Natasha’s own hair — and a pleased smile fits over her lips. 

She turns her back, walking slowly to let Bucky stumble after her. “You’re a baby, Barnes,” she says. 

Grumbling under his breath, Bucky answers with a, “Yeah, it’s funny what a broken heart will do to a fella.”

Natasha just laughs.

________

By the time the pair reaches Tony, their rank has grown into a small crowd of gossip mongers. Bucky isn’t even sure how it happened.

He remembers Clint tagging along and something about the archer’s presence never fails to attract Kate — even when he’s bored and still clearly hungover from a night out with Agent May. Thor joined their rank somewhere between the terrace and the seventh R&D lab, along with his science-lab cronies, but Bucky definitely doesn’t remember Bruce joining the party. He likes to think he’d remember the quiet man’s approach, but Bucky finds himself standing beside the man as Bruce keys them into Tony’s lab. 

Bucky must stare at Bruce just a second too long because the older man just shrugs under the scrutiny. “I’m curious,” he tells Bucky. “Can you blame me?”

Looking around him, Bucky shakes his head. No, he really can’t. 

When they enter the lab, Tony keeps his back turned, but his loose, exaggerated movements let the crowd know he’s aware of their presence. He stays hunched over his latest project — which, if Bucky’s not mistaken, is currently spitting sparks — and waves his unreasonably fancy torque wrench around like a conductor’s baton. It’s only when Tony starts humming a ballad loudly to the group that Thor decides to cut in. 

“Man of Iron, we’ve all gathered here to ask you an important question.”

Tony stills. “I’ve been made aware.”

Unperturbed, Thor continues. “We would like to know if your friend, JARVIS, was correct with his knowledge of Steve’s amorous adventures as of late.”

Bucky waits for Tony to say something and feels a prickle of heat grow at his chest as he waits for the answer. It’s a new feeling — one he’s not fully experienced in… _jesus_ , decades — but the uncomfortable tugging underneath his skin makes him shuffle on his feet. Bucky doesn’t even realize that he knocks into Natasha until her hand gently clasps his metal forearm just tightly enough so that he can feel it. Startled, he looks over to her. 

Natasha keeps her narrowed eyes on Tony’s back, but her voice is knowing when she tells him to breathe. “It’s going to be fine,” she tells him. “Jealousy won’t kill you.”

Bucky breathes out suddenly once he puts the name to the feeling, but the satisfaction leaves almost as soon as it comes when Tony turns around and points to a monitor beside him. 

“Cap is definitely on a date, please, so don’t insult my baby’s intelligence.”

Natasha’s grip on Bucky’s arm anchors him. 

“What do you mean, Stark,” she asks, and Bucky glad is that at least one of them can get words out.

Tony leers and turns to the monitor. Within seconds, a video loop is playing on-screen as the crowd watches Steve, who’s dressed nicely in washed jeans and a button-down, look over his shoulder before he enters a nondescript. “That,” Tony says loudly, “is a fancy restaurant down on 8th Avenue. And this isn’t the first time our team’s captain has played hooky to go get a little nooky,” he continues before pulling up six other clips of Steve entering the restaurant. 

Bucky blinks as he reads the time signatures and realizes that Steve has been doing this for three months now. Moving her hand, Natasha turns to Bucky and gives him a pointed look. He knows it well — has seen it on enough missions to put together what she wants — and he nods back when Tony waves the screen away. 

They both take a step back, ready to head out of the room to begin the mission, but Tony’s voice stops them.

“If you two are about to do what I know you’re going to, I am so coming with you,” he says, and the crowd murmurs agreements amongst them. Bucky catches Kate’s eye and sees the manic gleam in her eye that makes him want to shudder. Squaring her shoulders, Natasha speaks up.

“We don’t need anyone else on this, Stark.”

Tony shakes his head. “I think you’re wrong about that. The restaurant he’s at? Totally high-class with all the fancy security to go with it. You’re going to have a hell of time getting into that place quietly without Rogers rabbiting.”

Natasha laughs. “And you think you can do better?”

Tony rolls his eyes and gives a pointed look at the ceiling before JARVIS speaks a moment later. 

“Sir, I have just secured a party reservation for your table at The Playground. They are ready for you at your leisure.”

Tony claps his hands. “And that is why they promoted me from ‘consultant’ to ‘full-on Avenger.’ Everyone, please, save your applause.”

________

“Why are we even doing this?”

Natasha ignores him and continues to look out of the car's window.

Bucky clears his throat and tugs at the collar of his too-tight button-up. “I mean, he’s going to know we’re there. He’s not stupid — We are though. We are stupid for going through with this.”

Clint thumbs his sunglasses down to look at Bucky, ignoring the way that Kate has draped her heel-clad feet in his laps. “This isn’t stupid; This is reconnaissance protocol. You’re a spy, man. Just look at you; It's like you just stepped out of a movie.”

He does look down at himself, taking in the sleek and tucked suit he’s currently poured into. The fabric clings to him closely, too closely for any comfort room, but Darcy had practically manhandled him into the ensemble because it quote, “made his ass look totally bangable.”

From her seat, Natasha finally looks Bucky over as well. “You’re a regular James Bond, Barnes.”

Bucky flushes and tugs at the sleeves of his jacket. “Well that’s something at least.”

________

Steve is by himself when the party sneaks into the dining room from Tony’s ultra-exclusive back entry. The entire table in all its conspicuous glory is seated in a shaded back area of the restaurant which Tony is all too happy to share with them as he orders wine. But Bucky keeps his eyes on Steve who he can just see out of the corner of his eye.

He swallows. It’s like Bucky has never seen Steve before — has never noticed the way his neck curves into his broad shoulders or the way that his longer hair now brushes against his cheek. 

“…you okay, James?”

Bucky jerks and looks at Bruce. “Yeah,” he answers, “I’m fine.”

And he is — he is totally, one-hundred percent fine — until their wine comes out and Steve’s date finally decides to show up along with it. The table goes hush as they watch Steve stand up from his seat, throwing his shoulders back like he’s about to be dressed down by Colonel Phillips’ ghost, and Bucky remembers to breathe once Natasha forgoes putting her hand on his forearm and rests it on top of his own instead. 

He feels the warm, soft skin against his own, and _thank god_ Natasha figured this all out a year ago. 

When Steve's date comes into view, the table falls silent before Tony carefully speaks up.

“Is that…?”

He trails off.

A moment later, Clint leans forward and squints his eyes. “She is not what I was expecting,” he says, and Bucky can’t help but nod because he agrees. 

Because Steve being on a date with a ninety-year old dame wasn’t what Bucky was expecting to see this afternoon, but it is what he’s seeing in front of him. Natasha coughs beside him, clearing her throat too casually, and Bucky can feel hysteria of his own bubbling within his chest. He looks across the table, noting how everyone refuses to look at one another as they desperately sip their drinks and cover their mouths. 

It’s Bucky who breaks the silence. “Well, at least we know he’s interested in women his own age,” he says lightly, and Tony bursts into laughter.

The entire table erupts into cackles as they spread across the table, even Natasha as she rests her head against the table’s cool granite and lets her shoulders shake with unrestrained laughter. Bucky, though, laughs for just a moment before he drops his head against the back of the booth and breathes easily for what feels like the first time in years. 

Today’s been a reminder, but still — It’s nice to know he’s got a chance. 

“I thought that was you laughing, and I was right."

Bucky freezes, blinking when he sees Steve’s face appear just above his. He blanches. “Oh, well, that’s good.”

Steve stares at him for a moment with a closed expression, almost as if he hasn’t realized everyone else sitting at the table. But his face quickly brightens as Steve smiles, and Bucky’s breath catches in his throat because this is a sight he would never get tired of seeing. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, “You laughing? That's definitely good.”

From across the table, Tony pretends to gag into his soup. “Oh, just get a room already,” he jeers. Steve, for the most part, doesn’t react. Instead, he looks across the table and nods at his friends who are all now looking at him with curious eyes. Darcy is the one to ask him about it first. 

“So,” she asks him as she rips her breadstick in half, “this is what you've been up to?"

Steve nods. "In a word, yes, but I'm surprised it took everyone else this long to figure out. Telling JARVIS this was a date was, well, I thought it would be too obvious."

Bucky coughs and looks at Darcy as does the rest of the table. She shrugs, dipping her bread into her soup. "What," she asks. "I get curious and look into all your schedules from time to time. It's not my fault you all are oblivious."

From under his breath, Bucky can hear Clint say something about how embarrassing it is that Darcy showed them all up — of all people — but then Darcy is talking over the archer to ask the question that's on everyone's mind. "Steve," she starts, "who’s your lovergirl over there?”

Steve laughs. “I wish,” he answers. “A dame like that? I could never deserve her.”

“I doubt that. Anyone would be lucky to have you, Steve. I’ve always said that,” Bucky says automatically, and when the table turns to look at him, Bucky desperately fights to keep his face still as he internally panics over his words. Steve, though, he blinks once and then twice before smiling at Bucky. However, the smile doesn’t stay sweet as it twists into something more mischievous.

Bucky gulps. 

“You know, I actually want to introduce her to you all,” Steve says. “I’ve been catching up with some old friends — the ones still around — but I think Bucky’s going to love catching up with this dame. Just give me a second…,” Steve trails as he goes to grab his date. Bucky leans away from the table to try and grab Steve’s shirt, but he fails. 

“Wait,” he calls. “What are you doing?”

But Bucky knows exactly what Steve is doing — he knows it from the moment Steve first helps his data walk over to their back table — because not even the past sixty-some-odd years could now keep Bucky remembering Anne McCarthy, the prettiest girl who’d lived on Steve’s street during when they were kids. 

It also helped that she had been Bucky’s first girlfriend until, well, he got himself caught out kissing an older girl in his class. They hadn’t even made it through their first date before she cut him loose after catching him busy behind the diner. 

Bucky’s jaw threatens to drop when she hobbles alongside Steve, dressed smartly in a pink tweed suit and an angled hat, because her eyes are wet with tears when she stops in front of him. 

“Now, isn’t this a surprise,” she says, staring widely at him. Bucky nods, feeling his throat close up when he looks over to Steve and sees his friend nodding back towards the table in the dining hall. Anne shifts forward on her cane, which is bejeweled from top to bottom, and Bucky sputters out the first words that come to his mind. 

“You want to finish our date?”

Anne laughs and pats Bucky on the shoulder before turning to face Steve. “Do you mind if I steal your fella for an hour or two,” she asks. 

Steve goes red. “Yeah, no, that’s fine with me. H-He’s no—”

“That's awfully generous of you,” Anne tells Steve before turning back Bucky who’s now on his feet and holding a hand out to steady her. She giggles before lacing her arm with his. 

“You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, Barnes. It’s a shame you didn't back then,” she teases him. “I guess I got ahold of you too early. And, now, it appears I’m too late,” she continues as she looks back to Steve. 

Bucky laughs, feeling his face warm as he helps his date to their new table. 

“You know what,” he tells her. “I think you’re right.”


	6. my first kiss went a little like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Steve and Bucky get their act together, Peggy knows everything, and Thor brings the team some Asgardian mead.

It’s a common misconception.

That is, the whole idea that Steve Rogers never kissed anyone before Peggy Carter. 

He understands, of course, why the rumor took hold — why all those history texts and respectable scholars go on and on about how Steve’s scrawny stature kept him from getting any playground kisses when he was younger. No, it wasn’t until Steve became Captain America that he finally got some lip-to-lip action. 

And Steve is fine with the whole thing. Really, he is. On Peggy’s better days, he likes to sit beside her bed and talk to her about how backwards everybody has him these days. It was bad enough back then, he tells her, but now it is getting ridiculous.

Sometimes Peggy will laugh, slowly stroking a thumb over Steve’s wrist and pretending like she isn’t still checking for his steady pulse. Others, she will nod her head with a soft understanding because Peggy _knows_ him and sees just how terribly the world has drawn a caricature of him to suit their needs. But there is one time when Peggy just looks at him for a moment, twisting her classic red lips into a knowing smile. 

“So, you’re saying I wasn’t your first then,” she asks Steve though she already knows the answer. He flushes, leaning back into his rickety seat to brace his hands on his knees. 

“That’s not what I said, Pegs,” he tells her, but Peggy just rolls her eyes with all the precision a fed-up women can. She reaches forward and pinches the denim covering Steve’s thigh in a show of force.

Peggy purses her lips at him. “I know that’s not what you said, dear, but I am not so old that I cannot read between the lines. And, Steve, your lines are wider than the Potomac itself.” 

There’s nothing Steve can say to this — nothing he can do to argue or turn around the conversation. He knows this because there is a look in Peggy’s eyes that stop him. It’s a straightforward look that sees right through him just like it did all those years ago when she sat next to him in a cab on their way to Brooklyn. For a moment, Steve almost feels like he is small again under her careful look because she’s always been able to do that. 

They are quiet for a moment. Steve waits for her to speak again as he hears Sharon working in the kitchen down the hall, making lunch under her grandmother’s strict orders to serve their guest some tea. Even the lively day just beyond Peggy’s window doesn’t distract him though it tries with its crisp, turning air that’s just now starting to usher in the spring. 

“I’m not upset, Steve.”

He looks at her, tilting his head. “Huh?”

Peggy grins slyly. “I said, I’m not upset for you having kissed someone else before me if you were worried about that.”

Quirking his brow, Steve nods. “That’s nice to hear, Pegs.”

She laughs, bringing her hand to fiddle with the necklace Steve gave her for Christmas. “I don’t possibly see how I could mad about it, Steve, given the facts.”

Steve stops. “What facts?”

Peggy’s smile arches. “The facts are that you kissed someone else, and that person was none other than Bucky Barnes,” she tells him as Steve’s jaw drops. Seeing his taken expression, Peggy snorts gracefully. “What? Did you really think I didn’t know?”

Steve, to his credit, manages to shut his jaw before answering. “H-How many people know about this,” he asks, thinking through all the biographies and god-awful specials he watched about his team because nobody has ever brought up this little to-do before. Peggy shakes her head, resting her hand lightly on Steve’s hands which are now digging into his jeans. 

“Just me, Steve. I never told a soul.”

“But,” Steve stammers, “how did you find out?”

Peggy shrugs. “I had quite the conversation once with Barnes about it after a few drinks. You were with Stark — Howard, that is — and the rest of your team needed…might I say, some persuasion to quit causing a raucous at the pub that evening. I forget the rest but…”

Steve waits as Peggy grows quiet, and a dreadful tug pulls at his gut when he realizes that she might be slipping today. He leans forward to brush a curled strand of hair from her face. Despite her focus, Peggy fusses and swats his hand away, lacing their fingers together as she rests their hands above her chest. 

He feels the steady thud-thud of her heart beneath his fingertips. A moment later, Peggy finishes. 

“…oh yes,” she starts. “It’s a miracle, though, that nobody else ever figured it out.”

Steve blanches. “Why’d you say that?”

“Well, you two — it's not like you were very subtle.”

________

Bucky never kissed Steve.

There hadn’t been any games involved, no late-night pranks gone awry that left Bucky hovering just above Steve’s lips until he let himself sink forwards. Surprisingly, there weren’t any bets made about the two locking lips from their friends who would all giggle and crow at the first sight of couple holding hands. It wasn’t even practice for their would-be girlfriends one day as the two boys fumbled around each other, pretending that the lips they were kissing were painted red and belonged to Susie Donovan down the way.

Steve kissed Bucky instead after his mother died, both kneeling by her empty bed after the funeral ended because Steve was alone now and Bucky…well, Bucky was everything he had left. There wasn’t any thought when he pushed himself up to Bucky, angling his face like he had seen his friend do with all his dames after school. Their lips touched briefly — soft, warm, chapped from their teeth rolling over its skin to hold back tears — but the feeling rippled through Steve’s spine as he pushed himself further forwards. Bucky didn’t move for a second, but then he was tilting his head to brush his nose against Steve’s cheek as he kissed him back. 

It felt like an hour for Steve, but when Bucky pulled back not a minute later, he could feel the hot shame of what he’d done stick in his chest. His tired lungs struggled for air as he turned his head aside, unable to look at his best friend — not after he’d done something so wrong — and found himself looking over his mother’s handmade quilt that was still draped over her bed. His eyes grew heavy as he traced the familiar sewn blanket, breathing shortly even as Bucky drew Steve towards his chest. 

“Pal,” Bucky said, “you gotta calm down. It’s okay; I know, alright? It’s been a lot, but I need you to breathe now, Steve. Look at me, okay? Will you look at me?”

There was a hand underneath Steve’s chin, pulling his face away from him mother’s bed and towards Bucky’s wide eyes. Dropping his stare to Bucky’s red mouth, Steve’s lips wobbled once before he let out a pained whine and rolled his head onto Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky kept his hands on Steve’s back, rubbing up and down Steve’s back. “Shh, breathe through it. Don’t worry, Steve, it’ll be better in the morning. You’ll see. I’m hear, okay, so just breathe with me…”

When Steve woke up the morning, they didn't speak of what happened. Bucky went to work like normal if not with more hesitancy to leave Steve by himself, but he eventually went on his way after Steve wrapped himself in a blanket and swore to god himself that he wouldn’t leave his bed. And he didn’t for once — Steve kept in bed beneath his own blanket until that evening when the sun had gone down and Bucky still hadn’t come back yet to check on him. 

But, when Bucky finally did come around later that night to cajole his friend into eating some food, Steve wasn’t in bed. Throat thick, Bucky slid out of Steve’s room and hurried to the other bedroom before letting out a long breath. Because there was Steve, still curled tightly within his blanket, but Bucky’s heart sank when he saw the threadbare quilt lain on top of Steve. 

If Steve had been awake then, he might have seen Bucky crouch down beside him. With a hand reaching to brush hair from Steve’s face, Bucky had chickened out and brought his hand instead to rest on Steve’s ice cold hand which dangled from the bed. 

If Steve had been awake then, he might have heard Bucky’s fond voice call out to him before stopping. Wanting his friend to rest, Bucky had quieted and instead pulled the covers higher up on Steve’s thin chest. 

If Steve had been awake then, he might have felt Bucky’s lips press gently onto his forehead as Bucky climbed to his feet. With Steve asleep, Bucky hadn’t been sure what to do — had maybe thought to crash in Steve’s bed down the hall while he still could — but ultimately found himself unable to leave. 

So, when Steve woke up early the next morning to find Bucky asleep on the floor beside his mother’s bed, he wasn’t sure what to think. 

He never was when it came to Bucky.

________

It’s a month after the visit when Steve mentions it again.

He doesn’t set out to. These things, it seem, slip from Steve without the slightest provocation.

It’s the only way to explain why he winds up talking about this when pinned to a gym mat, straining for breath as Natasha’s boot digs into his ribs. 

Face reddening, Steve blanches — can’t think of anything else to throw Natasha off and win this last round — so he gasps: “I kissed Bucky.”

Immediately, Natasha’s foot lifts off Steve’s chest, and he rolls himself to the side and gets to his feet. A drop of sweat runs into his eye and stings enough to make him blink, but Steve can feel the steady look that Natasha is giving him. 

From across the gym, Sam looks concerned. “You did what?”

It takes a moment for Steve to process everything — to even realize what he had just said — but when he does, his face goes red for a whole different reason. Steve shrugs. “I, um, I kissed Bucky,” he answers because, _really_ , what good will lying do for him now?

Natasha takes a step towards him, quiet as ever as her bare-feet pad against the mat. Steve straightens automatically, feeling smaller and smaller as she comes closer until she’s right at his chest. There is a look in her eyes that reminds him so much of Peggy that it nearly knocks his breath away as she takes a finger and pokes him in the chest. Steve, still panicked, shuffles backwards. 

“Sure, sure,” she tells him. “We’ll pretend like you didn’t just say hoping the shock would knock me off you. That was a cheap trick, Rogers. I’m proud of you.”

Steve frowns, opening his mouth to correct her — to tell her and Sam that he really had kissed Bucky — but then Sam is stepping onto the mat with an easy grin. 

“Steve Rogers getting down and dirty with a lady in a fight? I never thought I’d see the day,” Sam jokes as he comes to stand next to Steve. His shoulders glisten with sweat, and just above Sam’s elbow, Steve can already see an ugly bruise forming after Natasha had manhandled him to the ground. On his part, Sam hadn’t minded too much, not if it meant that he got to have his ass handed to him by Natasha herself. 

“…back to the match?”

Shaking his head, Steve says: “Wait, guys, I wasn’t—“

“Steve.”

At Sam’s voice, Steve looks between his friends with the dawning realization of what they’re doing. It’s an out, plain and simple. If he doesn’t want to admit it, if he can’t without falling apart, they’re letting him slide out of the breakdown before it starts. Natasha is still staring at him, and Steve knows that they both know what he said, but it doesn’t have to matter — not if he doesn’t want it to. 

Steve drops his shoulders, toeing the mat as he keeps his eyes firmly to the floor. 

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s finish this."

________

It happens for a second time when Thor brings the team some fabled Asgardian liquor.

Steve isn’t even sure what he is drinking when he starts to feel the hazy buzz of alcohol wash over him. He remembers laughing because he hasn’t felt this way in nearly a decade — to be able to feel not only the initial burn of a drink but then to also then feel the easy, drunken way it makes him feel afterwards. It’s not been since Prohibition ended that Steve can remember drinking like this with friends, and even him being in this new body and being with new friends cannot shake the nostalgia from him.

Beside him, Tony has his arm thrown over Clint’s shoulder as they sway back-and-forth to a song Steve doesn’t recognize.

At this point, he should be used to that happening. 

“Captain!”

Steve’s vision swirls when he turns at Thor’s booming voice. The large man has dropped himself in the seat beside Steve, smiling widely as he holds a tankard of mead in one hand and a sketchbooks in his other. Eyes widening, Steve reaches for the sketchbook and places it in his lap when Thor lets go. He lets his hands trace over its cover reverently before he opens it and sees his sloppily written signature tucked away in the bottom corner. 

“It appears you received a package from somebody named Smithsonian. That is quite the odd name to have upon Midgard, is it not? In all my travels, I have yet to…”

But Steve stops listening to Thor’s rambles as he opens the sketchbook, rubbing his fingers over the aged paper as he takes in the familiar shapes etched into it. He’s so enamored with the book that he doesn’t notice when Tony and Clint quit their duet and come to stand behind Steve until Clint’s sloshed voice calls out to him. 

“Is that Barnes?”

Freezing, Steve looks at the picture he’s turned to and sees it’s a simple portrait of Bucky’s face. 

“It is,” Steve answers, replying easily — more so than he normally would. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

Tony snorts. “Of course he is, Cap. I mean, have you seen the guy?”

“10/10, would recommend Barnes as the hottest of all super soldiers,” Clint says. “Why isn’t he with us? Hey, Barnes, get your ass down here!”

Steve punches Clint in the thigh a little harder than he means to so that his friend will stop yelling. “He’s on a…a mission, yeah,” Steve tells them. “It’s super secret, so keep it hush-hush.”

“Agent and Fury never do know when to quit, do they,” Tony asks as he settles him on the couch, squishing Steve and Thor closer together. “Secret this, secret that — It’s so boring. I need some new, better secrets,” he says. 

“I’ve got one,” Clint cries. “Coulson used to wear eyeliner!”

The group bursts into laughter. 

Thor goes next. “Darcy once bested me in battle,” he tells them proudly. “She is quite the mighty opponent!”

And, again, the team falls into fits of laughter as Tony starts gasping for breath. 

When it is Steve’s turn, he simply tells them, “My first kiss was Bucky.”

The group is silent for a moment — just long enough to make Steve’s stomach turn uncomfortably — but then Tony is falling backwards off the couch and laughing despite the way his shoulder rammed into the hardwood floor. Clint follows suit, laughing so hard that he has to wipe his eyes, while Thor chuckles goodheartedly before finishing his drink.

Steve sits there, confused. “What’s so funny?”

Tony continues laughing. “Jesus, Cap, we wanted to know your secrets, not your fantasies. Oh my god, this is _hilarious_. Captain America is a liar JARVIS, please tell me you got that…”

But Steve doesn’t stick around to hear the reply. While the rest of the team cracks themselves up, Steve grabs his sketchbook and heads to the kitchen for some quiet and to find some better lighting so he can look through his drawings.

_(and, when tony comes around later making kissy noises, steve doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilt when he trips tony on his way back to the common area)_

________

“I don’t believe you.”

Steve groans, ducking his head. “Why not? Why is it so hard to believe?”

Kate tugs on Lucky’s leash, waiting for him to come back from the flower bush he’d taken such interest in. “It’s not that it’s hard to believe, it’s just…”

Looking back to her, Steve blinks. “It’s just what?”

She bends down to ruffle Lucky’s fur when he returns. “You’re such a good boy,” Kate coos. “Yes you are. Yes you are! Thank you for not bringing me back any dead mice this time. That was so nice of you, good boy.”

Steve snaps. “Kate!”

Looking up to him from the ground, Kate deflates and looks back to Lucky. “You see Lucky? This is why men are stupid. Because if a man like Steve really had his first kiss with a man like Bucky almost a million years ago and was still wanting to kiss him again,” she says before pausing, “then I would expect a man like Steve to grow the balls to do so again.”

As if he understands, Lucky lazily nods his head before nosing Steve’s shin. Kate beams. 

“See? Even Lucky wants you to get lucky these days.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He hates that he can’t tell her that she’s wrong.

________

It’s a chronic condition, the way Steve perpetually has the worst timing.

Really, it would be comical with the way it keeps happening, but Steve struggles to find the humor of it all when the team is assigned a new mission. Because it should be a simple infiltration and intel recovery op. Except it didn't turn out that way, and that is why Steve finds himself posing as Bucky’s date to get into a swanky upscale hotel in Manila that's unfortunately hosting a fronted Hydra get-together. Both dressed sleekly in new suits — suits that are loose enough to actually let them move and fight — Steve wipes his hands on his pants as they make their way to security. 

Bucky knocks into Steve, reaching for his hand and taking it in his own. 

Steve, for his part, does his best not to let out a strangled gasp and turn into a tomato. “What are you doing,” he hisses under his breath. 

Smiling at Steve, Bucky answers. “Being a good boyfriend.”

And fuck all if that doesn’t make Steve’s heart jumped ten feet within his chest. 

It isn’t until the two are far enough inside, schmoozing through the crowd of silk dresses and old money, that Bucky lets go of Steve’s hand. Steve misses the warmth immediately, enough that he has to shake his hand to rid himself of the distracting feeling, because they still have a mission to finish. With Natasha and Clint unwillingly infiltrating catering for this op, Steve knows that Buck and he have to do this right and do it fast. 

Bucky is already overriding their target’s bedroom door when Steve looks up. “You ready?”

Huffing, Bucky hears the door unlock with a click. “When am I ever not?”

But this is where Steve’s timing comes in handy. Steve has just finished rifling through the target’s drawer, looking for the data that Fury is so adamant about getting, when Bucky calls out from the bed. “It’s on her laptop. I just need to upload this,” he says, “and then we need to call in the team.”

Suddenly aware of all the people downstairs — all of those Hydra beneficiaries who are networking just a floor below him — Steve moves behind Bucky as he uploads the intel to one of Stark’s drives. Steve isn’t sure what Bucky’s doing, not evening after having taken a crash course in hacking from Skye just a month ago, but he can see the percentage bar filling as the data moves. 

A creak outside the door snaps Steve’s attention. Bucky swears lowly, drumming his fingers on the laptop as the process counts down. 

_97%_

The creak outside sounds again as a person’s voice accompanies it. 

_98%_

Steve sees the door handle jiggle as a man outside tries to get in the room, so he stands up.

_99%_

“It’s not the target,” Bucky whispers. “That’s not her, but she has been known to pick up men at events like this.” But the door unlocks anyway. The door handle turns slowly — so slowly that Steve is sure he’s imagining it — and then he looks down at the computer. 

_100%_

“Baby,” the man says as he stumbles into the room, “are you ready for some — oh shit.”

Because the man doesn’t walk into the room and find his would-be date waiting for him on the bed. No, instead he finds two men sprawled a top the bed as Steve brackets Bucky’s body with his own, kissing him with everything he has. He breathes in sharply when Bucky arches up, fingers scrambling to grab onto Steve’s shoulder as he opens his mouth wider. A soft sigh slips from Steve’s mouth as he pushes Bucky harder onto the bed, raking his hands through Bucky’s long, tousled hair. 

Steve isn’t sure when the man finally decides to leave them be, but when he pulls away from Bucky this time — so many years after their first kiss — Steve’s eyes meet Bucky’s and neither can look away. Bucky’s eyes are blown wide, and Steve is so close to Bucky that he can again feel each breath that his friend takes. Licking his lips, Steve struggles for words. 

“I…”

Bucky nods. “Yeah.”

“Should we talk about this?”

Still staring at Steve, Bucky nods. “Yeah.”

Steve laughs. “Can you not saying anything other than ‘yeah’ after that?”

Bucky smiles, finally letting go of Steve’s shirt. “Yeah.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve tells him as he sits up, feeling less ashamed than before but a whole hell of a lot more embarrassed. He carefully slides off the bed, watchful of the laptop he had shoved to the floor to make room for them on the bed, and Steve leans against the bed as he faces the large window leading out to Manila. Bucky slides down there a moment later, close enough to Steve that their shoulders touch.

“We need to go,” Steve says after a long moment. “We have a job to finish.”

Bucky nods. “I know,” he says, “but if we go, will we actually talk about what just happened this time?”

Looking to Bucky, Steve furrows his brow. “This time?”

Bucky doesn’t answer him. Instead, he leans forward into Steve’s space before placing a soft kiss on Steve’s lips — so quick that Steve doesn’t even get to enjoy it properly. But then Bucky pulls back and laughs so loudly that Steve nearly jumps.

“It’s just like the first time,” Bucky tells him softly, and Steve blinks.

“I didn’t…I wasn’t sure if you—“

“Remembered?”

Steve looks at his hands. “I didn’t want to push you or anything.”

Bucky shakes his head. “You’re a punk, you know that? You’ve had me guessing over here for months now. Jesus, I thought I was going crazy — thought that maybe I had made the memories all up.”

“Memories of what,” Steve asks. 

Bucky smiles, and the sight makes Steve's heart want to burst. “Memories of loving you," he says.

There’s a moment then where Steve struggles to breathe, feeling smaller than he ever has before, but then Bucky takes his hand in his and holds him tight. The overwhelming feeling in Steve’s chest makes him laugh as he squeezes Bucky’s hand, feeling the way that their fingers interlock and fit between one another. 

Steve breathes out. “I lo—“

Outside, a large explosion cuts him off. Steve and Bucky are on their feet, crowding the large window as they watch the Hulk and Tony set off their attack. Steve swears, pivoting with Bucky at his side to get to the ballroom downstairs to assist Natasha. Pressing his comm, Steve yells.

“What the hell, Stark? You were supposed to wait until the all-clear.”

Stark’s tinny reply echoes through their shared comm a moment later. “Sorry, Cap, but we didn't have all day. We thought it was fine considering how you and Barnes were getting along.”

Steve nearly trips over his own feet once he realizes that the whole entire team heard what just went on in that room — and to Bucky’s credit — he manages to keep his own shock to a minimum as they reach the ballroom. The room is in shambles as patrons try to escape while other Hydra agents flood the room, shooting wildly as they attempt to take down Natasha. But Clint and Sam have their eyes above while the rest of the team keeps their feet on the ground. 

Bucky looks to Steve apologetically. “Alright, so maybe this isn’t _just_ like the first time.”

In his ear, Steve hears Tony’s voice crackle through the comm. “Oh, one more thing Steve.”

Steve takes a deep breath, reaching for his shield as Sam throws it to him as if it were some large, star-spangled frisbee. "What is it?"

Tony pauses. “I’m sorry I called you a liar.”

And Steve?

He can only just laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, settings, plot lines, concepts, or terminology as created, used, and owned by Marvel Entertainment, LLC ®. This is a work of fanfiction.


End file.
